


Angry Russian Bear

by guineamania



Series: GYWO Bingo [3]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Angry Russian Bear, Fussing, Idiots in Love, M/M, Not literally, canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 22:19:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4852655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guineamania/pseuds/guineamania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Napoleon is disorientated after his session on the chair but he is certain that Illya fussing over him is not normal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angry Russian Bear

When Rudi was laid unconscious on the floor Napoleon could finally breathe easy. Seeing Illya outside the door was the best thing that had happened in this whole mission. When the Russian had gestured to him, his self-preservation instinct dropped as he tried to stop a smile twitching to his lips. “You with me cowboy,” Illya exclaimed, breaking the bonds around Napoleon with ease. Napoleon’s eyes flickered shut as the pain and exhaustion threatened to overcome him.   
“Napoleon!” Illya shouted, shaking Napoleon awake again.  
“M fine,” Napoleon muttered, attempting to skake the fog from his head as the wires were removed. Napoleon stumbled up from the chair, using Illya’s back as a hand rail to get over to the table. Illya glanced over at Napoleon with something akin to concern but Rudi was stirring. Throughout the whole of the interrogation Napoleon was leaning against the table; that just made Illya look more and more tense. Determination radiated from Illya as he tried to fix the wiring for the torture device. Given that Rudi had already turned on his collegues, Illya’s determination was probably a personal vendetta. Napoleon just brushed it off, he was already feeling better and Illya was probably just worried about finding Gaby before something bad happened to her. He stumbled out of the room for their little chat, the pain in his muscles blocking out the heat radiating behind him. His head was spinning as the duo turned round to the roaring flames. However the severity of situation couldn’t work its way through the feeling that his nerves were on fire. “My jacket was in there.”  
  
“Illya, I really am fine,” Napoleon exclaimed, pushing the Russian’s hands away from where they were examining his body.  
“You are not fine cowboy,” Illya snapped in response as he continued his checks. Napoleon noticed the concealed tremors in Illya’s hands. The same tremor that usually accompanied one of his anger episodes. The fog in his mind was starting to clear and Napoleon felt like he had control over his movements again. Yes being tortured wasn’t the most pleasant feeling in the world but he was trained to withstand it when he enrolled in the army.  
“We have to rescue Gabi and save the world,” Napoleon protested weakly.  
“She cause your pain, she can wait,” Illya huffed, eventually pulling off Napoleon’s shirt and a rubbing some form of disinfectant on his partner’s wounds. Napoleon winced inaudibly but Illya still noticed. Napoleon just couldn’t wrap his head around Illya’s statement and fussing; Illya loved Gabi, so why was the Russian choosing the enemy over her and the world.   
“I will survive, we need to work. There is no time for dawdling,” Napoleon stated but his mind was still reeling. “Why are you fussing?” he questioned, the events of the past day had lowered his inhibitions. If he was in his right mind, then he never would have opened this can of worms; and if Illya wasn’t distracted than he probably wouldn’t have responded.  
“Because my cowboy is hurt,” Illya exclaimed.  
“Your cowboy?” Napoleon questioned with a soft smile, he could see on Illya’s face that he really had not meant to reveal that. Illya stuttered trying desperately to explain himself but Napoleon was having none of it. “That’s why you rescued me, that’s why you were so determined to make Rudi pay,” Napoleon chuckled as Illya distracted himself with buttoning Napoleon’s shirt back up again.   
“Illya,” Napoleon chuckled, amused by Illya’s fumbling. The Russian giant looked up nervously only to have his lips claimed by his American partner. The shock slowly ebbed from Illya’s muscles and he wrapped his hand round the back of Napoleon’s neck, pushing him into the kiss. They broke apart for air with matching beaming grins.  
“My peril.”  
“My cowboy.”


End file.
